Feng Sun Chen, “Blud”


Available now, from us, right here, is Feng Sun Chen’s “Blud”. As always, it’s 10 bucks. It’s a thing you want.
 
There are two cover versions. The first one is, of course, the octopus, which you can clearly see right there to the left. The other version of the cover is the one we like to call the Fight Club (Holy Crap Let’s Not Do That Again) version. There are very few of the FC(HCLNDTA) copies, so if you’re thinking that that’s the one for you, probably you oughtta go ahead and put in that order with a soonness rather than a later-ness, as, as the name implies, we’re not going to make them like that again.
 
There are also secret and special inclusions in the bindings of a number of these books. One copy has a 10-dollar bill bound into it, though there’s no way to get it out without destroying the book, and then you’d have to take that 10 bucks and buy yourself another copy. I think the best option is to wonder, but never know, but to also believe in the possibility that your book has the things. So long as you never look, your book will have all the possible inclusions, and really, I think that’s the best option.
 
 
BLUD
 
death grows inside the pelvic cave.
the tiny heart of death veins so cute you can’t cut with god’s eyelash
blushed with fermented joy.
i touch earth only when i touch you.
meanwhile, death buds and grows tiny fingers.
life should not go on, but the end is repetition. i repeat on you with
many mouths
in this room where amphibious animal parts isolate and thrum.
you push below my birth scar and death crowds my tailbone.
i say yes, i need that.
all over this body gates open meanwhile.
punctuation gushes out in sick white.
all feed.